The Big Thompson flood of 1976 was the deadliest flash flood in Colorado’s recorded history. On July 31, between 12 and 14 inches of rain fell over a four-hour period in the mountains around the resort town of Estes Park. Unusual weather patterns allowed the huge storm system to stall over the area as it dumped its load.

Witnesses later described difficulty breathing in the moisture-laden air as the rain drove “straight down, lukewarm and not an ounce of wind,” creating a heavy spray all around them. Water gathered speed as it washed over the steep rocky hillsides and flushed through the flatter meadows, all of it heading for the bottom of the V-shaped canyon.

By 9 p.m., water sweeping into the Big Thompson River had taken it from an average depth of 18 inches to a 20-foot wall of water that crashed through the length of the canyon. Recordings taken at the mouth of the Big Thompson canyon showed the flow of water at 31,200 cubic feet per second at its peak.

Approximately 4,000 people were in the canyon during Colorado’s centennial weekend, most of them from outside the area. For some, the only alert of the danger was by word of mouth. Telephone lines were ripped and mangled – power poles and bridges destroyed. Huge boulders, trees, houses, propane tanks, cars, mobile homes and everything else in the path of the wall of water were tossed around as if in a giant blender. The frightening roar of the churning debris was illuminated by frequent lightning strikes.

State Patrol Sgt. W. Hugh Purdy left his Loveland home to investigate and support two of his officers who were called to the area on reports of rock slides. They quickly encountered a disaster in the making and tried to evacuate the area. Officer Purdy reported the dire rise of water levels as he neared the little town of Drake, but by then, he was trapped and overwhelmed by the rush of the flood. Other valiant police and fire officials made every effort to warn people and prompt them to take action.

Some of those who escaped did so with barely time to climb or drive out. Many who tried to drive out ahead of the storm were trapped in their cars and swept to their deaths.

The monstrous flood took 143 lives and injured 150 people. Some bodies were carried away as far as 25 miles. Some bodies were never recovered. One man who left the area that morning was presumed a victim until located decades later, living in Oklahoma. The flood caused $35 million in damage, destroying 418 homes and 52 businesses, 438 vehicles, bridges, roads, the highway and power and telephone lines.

In 2001, on the 25th anniversary, a stone memorial was placed near Drake, Colorado. The marker lists the names of those who perished in the flood.

One legacy of the historic event can be seen in the number of signs that now dot Colorado’s mountain roads and highways: “Climb to safety” in case of flooding.

1904: Floodwaters weakened a bridge near Pueblo, causing it to
collapse under the weight of a train, killing at least 97 people
and leaving 14 unaccounted for.

1921: The Arkansas River burst its banks after three days of rain.
Water roared through downtown Pueblo. More than 100 people were
presumed dead, though the death toll may have been higher because some
victims were transients and not easily traced.

1933: A dam on Cherry Creek failed after heavy rain. Seven people
died in Denver, and damage was estimated at $1 million. Also in 1933, a flash flood decimated Bear Creek Canyon, forever changing the little town of Starbuck, which is now known as Idledale. See more about this flood, with historic photos, here.

1965: Plum Creek and the South Platte River flooded through Denver,
killing 21 people and wiping out 2,500 homes and 750 businesses.
There was $540 million in damage, most of it uninsured.

1976: A flash flood through Big Thompson Canyon was the state’s
deadliest disaster, killing 144 people and causing $35.5 million in
damage.

1997: A flash flood in Fort Collins, killed five people and
caused $200 million in damage, including 25 buildings at Colorado
State University.

High on any list are the slow-paced, hot-weather activities that leave plenty of time for fetching ice cream, catching frogs, ridin’ bikes and fooling around with pals. We’ve plucked some photos of past summers in Denver — the archive is full of them — to illustrate that times change, but pleasures endure.

Neighborhood kids in 1933 splashed around the city’s Benedict fountain and wading pool at east 20th Avenue and Court Place. The caption reads, “To this oasis in the ‘asphalt Sahara’ of downtown pavements, children throng daily by the hundreds for cool, safe, comfortable play.”

In Arvada in 1965, the North Jeffco Recreation District kept kids busy with organized activities such as archery lessons. Our photo is by Cloyd Teter.

Fishing in the city’s parks is a classic summertime activity, as Kirk and Kenneth Washington, below, discovered in 1977. The wiley fishermen have a net poised to snag their crawdads. An Ernie Leyba photo:

Summer reading programs let children enjoy quiet hours escaping to other worlds and times. Here, Jason Ortiz, 13, savored a book at the summer reading program at Rishel Middle School in 1988.

Currently under construction in Groton, Connecticut, is the fourth American warship to bear the name USS Colorado: a Virginia-class submarine, the 15th of its kind. The new USS Colorado (SSN-788) is to be commissioned in late 2016 or early 2017. She follows a distinguished line of naval ships that bear the Centennial State’s name.

The first USS Colorado.

The first, a three-masted steam- and sail-driven frigate named for the Colorado River, ranged from the Rio Grande to North Carolina during the United States Civil War. In 1871, she was sent to ‘straighten out things in Korea,’ according to press reports, where, in the 19th Century, Koreans were apt to kill shipwrecked sailors. The Colorado was dispatched carrying treaty negotiators to guarantee safety for castaways. On arrival, it was fired upon, so under covering blasts from the ship’s 40 guns, 365 men were sent ashore and quickly captured five Korean forts.

The second USS Colorado (above) was an armored cruiser christened by the governor’s daughter, Cora M. Peabody (Mrs. James Grafton Rogers), and commissioned in 1905. By 1916, the ship had a name change to the ‘Pueblo,’ and served on patrol and convoy duty transporting troops in World War I.

USS Colorado in her prime, 1939.

It was in her third incarnation as the USS Colorado (BB-45) that her fame and fortune lay — as a mighty battleship, a dreadnought, the last to be built before World War II. In 1921, Mrs. Max Melville, the daughter of Senator S.D. Nicholson, broke a bottle of Colorado River water across the bow of the $27 million dreadnought.

In the photo above, she is seen navigating the Panama Canal in 1939, in her prime. She bore twin gun turrets, eight bristling 16-inch guns, wooden decks, tall towers — a massive ship.

The USS Colorado served in both the Atlantic and Pacific and was docked at Bremerton, Washington, on December 7, 1941, when Pearl Harbor in Hawaii was attacked. In ensuing World War II, she “slugged her way through seven major amphibious landings,” according to a Denver Post story from January 1, 1956.
“The Colorado was practically the only heavy fleet unit left in action after Pearl Harbor. She drew guard duty off the west coast until late 1942 and did not give her 16-inch guns a workout until November 1943, when she chewed up Tarawa, Kwajalein, Eniwetok, Saipan, Guam and Tinian followed.

“The battlewagon’s first wound was sustained during the invasion of the Philippines, when one of the hundreds of kamizake suicide planes made a successful dive. Although the ship received heavy casualties, her own repair crews kept her in action. Then, in succession, Leyte, Mindoro and Luzon felt the weight of her broadsides.

“On March 21, 1945, the Colorado began firing the first of two million pounds of high explosives in the battle for Okinawa. For 63 days and nights the ship endured constant air attacks to deliver the fire support for troops pushing their way inland.” Below, the Colorado in action, guns ablaze:

USS Colorado firing her guns at Japanese targets.

In August 1945, the USS Colorado was among the first Allied arrivals in Japanese homeland waters as the surrender was prepared. By the next month, the ship was headed back home to the U.S.

In 1947, she was decommissioned.

In 1959, she was sold for scrap.

Some artifacts survive, including her bell, which made an appearance in Colorado, of course. Here it is being viewed by the governor, Steve McNichols, in 1961:

In 1952, the state issued a ‘tourism book’ meant to lure visitors to Colorful Colorado. One of the gems offered was the map above, which was labeled:

“MAP OF STATE OF COLORADO
SHOWING THE COMBINED 12
EXCEEDINGLY INTERESTING TOURS
DESCRIBED IN THIS BOOK”

The Post, naturally, ran a story on its publication:

“The lavishly colored scenic and recreational booklet is being used to answer inquiries of prospective visitors and supplied to out-of-state travel agencies and motor clubs. Featured in the fifty-four-page volume are twelve descriptive, illustrated auto trips covering every part of the state.
‘The format of the brochure is something of a radical departure from standard vacation literature,’ says Lewis R. Cobb, department director.
‘First, by its pictorial beauty and interesting textural appeal, the booklet will serve as a primary, conventional ‘lure’ piece to arouse the prospective traveler’s interest in Colorado as a vacation goal.
‘Second, because it actually plots places to go and things to do; it will aid the vacationist in preplanning his trip and possibly serve to clinch his decision in favor of Colorado if he is considering several states.’ ”

It was surely enough to get the family piled into the wood-paneled station wagon for another summer road trip. Many of the highlights shown above are, of course, still on the tourist’s map today. Classics, if you will, which can be visited again and again.

On April 14, 1865, U.S. President Abraham Lincoln was assassinated as he attended a performance at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, D.C. The photo below, taken in April 1865, is an Associated Press photo from the archives of the Library of Congress. It shows the president’s box at the theater and his tufted chair can clearly be seen.

Below, his chair today, preserved and showing bloodstains, is on display at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan. (AP Photo/Paul Sancya)

Many artifacts of the assassination of President Lincoln survive and are on display in museums. They bring the event close after 150 years have passed. It was, and is, a shocking event to comprehend.

In this steroscopic photo provided by The Library of Congress, the crowd surrounds the funeral procession for Lincoln in Philadelphia on April 22, 1865. Rare Civil War-era stereoscopics have been acquired by the library from collector Robin Stanford. The images include Lincoln’s funeral procession in various cities. Stereoscopic photography creates the illusion of three-dimensional depth from two similar two-dimensional photographs taken next to each other. (AP Photo/Library of Congress)

Colorado lost many men and women in the final days of World War II, but today we remember a son of Denver parents who grew to military prominence and became the highest ranking American officer to be killed in action in Europe. He was also the highest ranking Jewish officer in the U.S. Army.

Major General Maurice Rose died on March 30, 1945, exactly 70 years ago. He and his staff, surrounded by German troops, were attempting to surrender. A panicked young German tank soldier fired one shot to Rose’s head, killing him instantly.

His death caused an uproar: Demands were made by congressmen for an investigation and it was front-page news in the days when so many chaotic events in both theaters of war crowded newspaper pages.

Rabbi and Mrs. Samuel Rose hold a photo of their son after receiving news of his death.

The major’s personal aide, Maj. Robert Bellinger, witnessed the event. In news reports, he relayed that Rose, who habitually rode with the advance elements of his command, the 3rd Armored Division, had his driver turn around to check on reports of some men cut off behind them. Barreling down a road they thought had been cleared, their Jeep encountered a column of German tanks, so they fled across a field, only to run into more Tiger tanks. They were surrounded.

Rose got out and walked with arms raised toward an armed tank soldier. Bellinger followed. The Nazi soldier shot Rose dead. Bellinger saw the young soldier hesitate in apparent shock and made a dash for the Jeep, yelling at the driver to take off. They eventually escaped. American forces returned as soon as possible to recover Rose’s body.

Maj. Gen. Maurice Rose was born in Connecticut on November 26, 1899 and had always wanted to have a military career. When his parents moved to Denver, he was three years old. He graduated from East High School and in a short span of time, started at the University of Colorado, enlisted in the Colorado National Guard and finished officers’ candidates school, becoming a second lieutenant at age 19. He was sent overseas in World War I and was wounded in France. He returned home a captain.

Rose again went overseas on December 11, 1942, to North Africa, where, as a “tall, handsome, black-haired colonel,” (Denver Post, April 3, 1945) he served as chief of staff to Maj. Gen. Ernest H. Harmon, commander of the 1st Armored Division. When German forces in Tunisia collapsed, Rose negotiated the unconditional terms of surrender to the German general, Fritz Krause. He was promoted to brigadier general, headed command of the 2nd Armored Division through Sicily and was transferred to the 3rd Armored Division in Normandy. He was put in full command of the 3rd division as it swept across France following the breakthrough at Omaha Beach and St. Lo in the north. He was named a major general temporarily, which was later made a permanent promotion.

The 3rd Armored Division dashed through Belgium and was first armor into Germany, first through the Siegfried line, helped to stem the Germans’ Ardennes offensive and was first armor into the city of Cologne (Denver Post, April 3, 1945).

It was quite a career. Rose was just 45 years old when he died.

The general is remembered in many ways. In the photo below, an army troop transport ship is named for him in 1949. Note his aide-de-camp, Maj. Robert Bellinger, present at left.

FEB 20 1949 In ceremonies aboard the army’s newest transport at the Brooklyn, N. Y., army base, three army men view a portrait of Maj. Gen. Maurice Rose of Denver, who was killed in action while leading the Third armored division in Europe in World war II. The transport was named in honor of General Rose at the ceremony. Left to right are Maj. Robert M. Bellinger and Col. John A. Smith Jr., former members of the general’s staff, and Sgt. Lafayette G. Pool, a wartime hero of the Third armored division. The portrait was presented by the division. Associated Press photo

But Rose is remembered daily in Denver through the hard work and largess of friends, family and the community. Within weeks of his death, Jewish leaders revved up fundraising for a hospital they planned, naming it in honor of the Colorado war hero. The General Rose Memorial Hospital is now known as Rose Medical Center.

1946: Mrs. Samuel Rose, mother of the general, turned the first shovelful of earth when ground was broken last August for the Rose Memorial hospital. Left to right: Maurice B. Shwayder, Ben M. Blumberg, Mrs. Dave Cook, Joe Alpert, Mrs. Louis A. Pollack and Arnold Rose, the general’s brother.

At the dedication of the hospital, Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower laid the cornerstone. In the photo below, Mrs. Samuel Rose is at left.

Rose Medical Center, a top U.S. medical facility, became known for its wonderful infant care and was the birthplace of many Denver children. Below, the very first baby born at the new facility in 1949 was the 7-pound, 1 ounce daughter of Mrs. William Sherman, shown below with Nurse Dolores Rasmussen. She was the only occupant of the ultramodern nursery with its 40-baby capacity.

It is a happy legacy.

First baby born at General Rose Memorial Hospital, 1949. Denver Post archive photo

“Gen. Rose was buried in the American Military Cemetery in Margraten, The Netherlands. In this large and majestic cemetery, the remains of over 8,300 U.S. servicemen fallen in WWII rest in peace. To this day, the grounds are lovingly cared for by the people of Margraten.”

Readers, a beautiful piece of Denver’s history has seemingly vanished. Is the mystery a ‘Whodunnit? or a ‘Where-is-it-now?’ We follow the trail…

Exterior of the Moffat mansion in Denver.Credit: Denver Post

In 1910, an impressive 36-room mansion was constructed by railroad magnate David Moffat. It sat on a hill at the corner of 8th Avenue and Grant Street. It boasted a large reception hall hung with tapestries, an onyx mantel and a custom chandelier of Silesian crystal. But the showpiece of the house was a large stained-glass window made by Tiffany glassmakers. Installed in three panels, it cost $25,000 and sat prominently in the main staircase…

The stunning Tiffany window on staircase. Credit: Western History/Denver Public Library

Interior of reception room of Moffat mansion. Denver Post file photo

. . .

Flash forward 105 years to peer over the shoulder of Denver Post Senior Editor/Photography and Multimedia, Meghan Lyden, as she prepares for an upcoming Photo Night, a Denver Post public event. To create a slide show of ‘Then & Now’ images, she selects from the archives several photos of Denver’s glorious old mansions; some long gone, some still standing.

Senior Editor/Photography and Multimedia Meghan Lyden

She likes the photos of a particular grand old manse, David Moffat’s Edwardian pile, whose interior shots show fabulous architectural pieces (readers, see above). Meghan researches the fate of the Moffat mansion: After Moffat died, his widow Frances lived in the mansion alone until 1918 when she sold it to banker James B. Cosgriff, who died before the sale of the mansion was finalized. Cosgriff’s widow, Bessie, and their three children made the mansion their home until the 1930s when the home was sold for less than $25,000 to the American Hellenic Educational Progressive Association, known as AHEPA. The mansion was preserved and used by AHEPA for business meetings until the 1960s when the owners planned to demolish it and build a modern office building and parking structure in its place.

Historic Denver petitions to save the Moffat mansion in 1971.

The preceding decade in Denver had seen the destruction of countless historic homes in the Capitol Hill neighborhood. Private citizens and preservation groups mobilized to save the house but the owners pushed forward. Historic Denver, Inc., formed a few years earlier to save the Molly Brown House, tried to purchase the mansion but was unsuccessful. It was demolished in 1972, after an auction to sell the contents of the house.

1972 Denver Post coverage of the tear down.

Imagine Meghan’s surprise to find another Post archive photo showing the new office building constructed on the site. Dated 1973, it shows a group of men standing at the entrance of a modern office building, looking up toward a large window above the front door.

It is the three-paneled stained glass window from the staircase of the Moffat mansion!

1973 view of stained-glass window and door of Moffat mansion on office building.

Thrilled that it has been saved from destruction, Meghan quickly calls up Google Street View to look at the building entrance today.

and…

The apartment building is clearly the same one. The sidelight of the front door looks the same.

But um, something’s missing… the Tiffany stained-glass window is not there. Sitting in its place now is a three-panel plain glass window. The door also has lost its etched look. Here is the entrance as it appears today:

The original glass panel from the front door of the Moffat mansion can be seen in the lefthand panel of the door to 800 Grant Street. The copper etched glass panel on the main door has been replaced with clear glass. (Photo by Meghan Lyden, The Denver Post)

Readers, what has happened to it? Can you help? Many of you treasure the city’s architectural heritage and will be as curious as we regarding the whereabouts of the three panels of stained glass made by Tiffany in 1910.

On the last day of February (the 29th) in 1912, the Denver Post ran a roundup story of the month’s snowy weather records. Today, February 27, 2015, the city has a new record of 22.2″ of snowfall for the month, breaking that of 1912.

It’s fun to turn back the pages — and the clock– and enjoy the news coverage as if it was happening today.

Here’s the headline:

And the best of the 1912 story:

“All records for snowfall have been broken by the fall this month. Twenty-two and one-tenth inches have fallen during the month, the greatest fall ever recorded by the weather bureau since it began its present system of records, in 1885.

The greatest snowfall in twenty-four hours ever recorded also occurred this month between 6 p.m. February 23 and 6 p.m. February 24. On the evening of February 25 there was 12.8 inches of snow on the ground, which breaks still another record, the next greatest amount which the weather man can show in his books being 10 inches on February 23, 1909.

All railroad lines connecting Denver with the East and Southeast at 9 o’clock this morning were again open to traffic for the first time in four days. The Santa Fe was the last of the roads to overcome the snow blockades in Kansas. Denver passengers, who were aboard eight Santa Fe trains held up since Sunday at Dodge City and Kinsley, Kan., began arriving in the city this afternoon.

Twelve trains on the Santa Fe, all of which were blocked by snow in Kansas since last Sunday, passed through La Junta today. There was no suffering among passengers on blockaded trains as the company held trains at stations where there was an ample supply of food and where the passengers during their enforced stay were fed at the expense of the company. In some places in Kansas, according to reports brought to Denver, the tracks were buried under fifteen feet of snow.”

The story goes on to give the local transport picture:

“The local Tramway company was seriously troubled yesterday by snow drifts which were piled up on its lines by the high wind. Out on the Littleton line, the cars ran into drifts four feet deep. Today there was a series of accidents on the Aurora line which delayed the cars all morning and there was also trouble on the West Larimer line. The Globeville cars had to couple up to get through.”

The years around 1952 may have been the Golden Age of newspaper comic strips. Lots of comics have come and gone over the years and more will debut and sunset. But there is no doubt they are reader favorites.

Imagine the cartoonist, racking his or her brains for inspiration, day after day, week after week — creating comic strips is w-o-r-k! One of the best things about the photo above from the Denver Post archives is the cutline (caption) pasted on the back of it:

“FEB 10 1952, FEB 14 1952 It Beats Working – Cartoonists, who are really artists with their brains knocked loose, have the softest jobs in the world-all pay and no work. Here, three of the unusual breed look over “Rick Smith” comic strips fresh from the imagination factory owned by Hal Rayburn (left) and Kevin O’Toole (right). The Denver creators have shipped their sports comic strip hero to a New York syndicate, hoping to find a market for their brainchild. Bob Bowie (in back of them, center) Denver Post sports cartoonist, gets in on the act to see how the other half lives. Credit: The Denver Post David Mathias”

Copy editors were nothing if not comically disrespectful!

Comics and cartoons remain such popular features of daily newspaper pages that they are constantly evaluated.

Last month, an iconic figure in American popular culture died: Darrell Winfield, 85, of Wyoming. Most of us knew him as the Marlboro Man, the cigarette company’s noted advertising figure. He was one of several real Western cowboys who worked for the campaign.

In 1990, The Denver Post sent writer Jim Carrier in search of the Marlboro Man as a symbol of the West. He tracked down the cowboy models who posed as Marlboro Men. He visited ranches where the ads were shot and talked to ad execs and clothing manufacturers who helped create the image. He interviewed Westerners about their perception of the Marlboro Man and his impact on them and the West.

January 13, 1991, Page: 1-A
The Reporter, The Cowboy, The Myth
By Gil Spencer, DENVER POST

For six months, through the pure West, reporter Jim Carrier searched for Marlboro Men, those lean riders who stared down from billboards and sold a billion cigarettes.

He also searched for cowboys who had never been within roping distance of the Marlboro campaign, but who had the look and style that gave us Shane, Wayne and those endless shoot-’em-ups that added to the myth of the Old West.

While he was at it, Carrier couldn’t help comparing himself to the leathery subjects of the piece he was about to write, to the “beggin’ your pardon, ma’am,” gun-quick western hero typified by Gary Cooper. How did Carrier stack up? Not bad at all. They ride. He writes.

Carrier was shadowed by photographer Brian Brainerd. Judge his pictures for yourself. There’s an editor hereabouts who thinks many of them could hang in the Louvre.

This was not written for a paper in, say, Boston – although there are Bostonians who would have no trouble identifying the line: “Take ’em to Missouri, Matt.”

Jim Carrier’s story was written for a paper in Denver, Colorado, within buckboard distance of Marlboro Country and the lingering echoes of the Old West.

A search for Marlboro Men and for a mythic cowhand was a Carrier idea that made exquisite sense in Colorado and anywhere else in the West, for that matter.

Now all Carrier had to do was drive thousands of miles and interview ranchers, cowboys, ad agency specialists, women who were tougher than men, men who were tougher than men, several
in-the-flesh Marlboro Men, including a gay Marlboro Man, while paying his respects to enough horses, mules and cattle to supply the National Western Stock Show forever.

He’s back. The story’s done, all eight parts. And he’s still breathing.

The entire eight-part series can be found on microfilm at the Central Denver Public Library (January 13-16 and 24-27, 1991) or can be read in part, here (text only) on Newsbank’s America’s Newspapers, available under the Research tab of the Denver Public Library’s website.

Colorado has had African-American pioneers on many fronts, but none more so than Dr. Bernard F. Gipson, Sr., who was a medical doctor with a long career of service. He was the state’s first black board-certified surgeon, a diplomate of the American Board of Surgery.

Gipson completed pre-med studies at Morehouse College in Atlanta, then enrolled at Howard University College of Medicine. His internship was at Harlem Hospital in New York with a surgical residency at Howard University Freedman’s Hospital and at the U.S. Public Health Hospital in Boston.

Dr. Gipson and his wife Ernestine arrived in Colorado in 1954 when, as a U.S. Air Force captain, he took up his assignment at Lowry Air Force Base as chief of surgery. Following his discharge in 1956, he set up a private practice that was active until he retired in 1995.

He also served 25 years as a clinical associate professor of surgery at the former University of Colorado Health Sciences Center.